


Workin' On A Sunday

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not deep, angsty philosophy. Just a fun piece of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workin' On A Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Silly PWP, no plot whatsoever.

## Workin' On A Sunday

by Texas Ranger

Author's disclaimer: Jim, Blair, and Simon belong to PetFly, but we all know that.

* * *

Blair walked into Major Crimes that Sunday morning with sex on his mind. He had woke up from the Academy Award of wet dreams to find that Jim had left to take care of some things Simon left when he went on vacation. 

Blair tossed and turned, trying to get back to sleep, but images of Jim from last night's dream in jungle camoflage with the gang helmet tied around his head and his sculpted biceps glistening with sweat were acting like a box of No-Doze. Clearly, something had to be done. 

"Something" was frowning over Simon's computer when Blair burst in. 

''Morning, Chief," Jim said. "You're up early." 

Blair began to close the blinds without bothering to reply. 

"What are you doing?" Jim asked. 

"I am closing the blinds so no one gets a thrill watching me rip off your clothes and do you right here on the floor," Blair replied. 

Jim started to grin. "Right here in Simon's office?" 

"Uh huh." 

"You don't think he'd mind?" 

"Hell, no!" Blair exclaimed,"in fact, he'd insist." 

Jim pulled Blair into his lap. "Oh, definitely! In fact-" he kissed Blair's shoulder "-if he were here he'd say 'Sandburg, Ellison, use my office as a cheap motel! I insist!'" Jim stripped off Blair's shirt and tossed it across the room. 

"Hell of a guy, that Simon," Blair remarked, unzipping Jim's jeans. 

"The best," Jim agreed, his voice breaking when he felt Blair's fingers wrap around him. 

Blair switched around so he was straddling Jim, and Jim undid Blair's fly. Figuring one good yank deserved another, Jim reached into Blair's boxers and fondled him. 

Without breaking his rhythm Blair leaned down and attached his lips to Jim's neck. Jim gasped when he began to suck hard. "Shit, Blair, between the blood going south and the blood you're trying to extract through the skin, there'll be none left for my brain!" 

"I didn't get out of bed on a Sunday morning for your brain," Blair mumbled around Jim's neck. 

"Oh, well, since you put it that way-" Jim ducked his head and took Blair's nipple ring between his teeth. 

Blair gasped at the sensation and tightened his grip on Jim's old boy. "Oh, wow! I love that!" 

Jim muttered something unintelligible, and increased the pace of his strokes, synchronizing the yanking and the sucking while feeling Blair's thumb caressing the head of his erection. 

"Oh! Oh, God! Oh, Jim!" 

Uh oh. Blair was moaning now, vocal as always, which was fine in the privacy of their loft but here...well, Jim would just rather not have a squad of detectives burst in to find him and Blair jerking each other off at the boss' desk. That might have a negative effect on the old promotion potential. So, Jim reached up and clamped a hand over his Guide's mouth. 

Blair threw his head back and thrust his hips into Jim's hand. "MMMMMMMMMMPH!" he cried as he came. 

The feel of Blair's hips working against his own was too much. Jim bit his lip and spilled his seed into Blair's hand. 

"Im oo n ake er and ff ow," Blair said. 

Jim tried to focus his glazed eyes. "Huh?" He removed his hand from Blair's mouth. "Sorry." 

Blair caught his breath then climbed off Jim's lap. He retrieved his clothes and dressed, then headed for the door. 

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Where are you going?" 

Blair turned to look at him patiently. "Back to bed, man, what did you think?" 

Jim gaped at him. "And you're just gonna leave me here? I haven't even had any breakfast!" 

Blair shrugged. "Hey, Big Guy, that's what you get for workin' on a Sunday!" He bounced out of the station, satisfied. 

* * *

The End 

* * *

Jim woke up smiling and reached across the bed. The plan was to molest Blair out of a sound sleep and spend Sunday morning doing the wild mambo before perhaps pausing to shower before going at it again. But where Blair's butt should've been there was only cold sheets. 

Damndamnshitdamn! Blair had said something about an appointment in his office that morning, hadn't he? Jim pouted. Why should some snot-nosed student get Blair this morning? It wasn't fair! 

Wait a minute...some part of Jim's brain that wasn't currently being flooded with testosterone whispered *Hey, remember that stunt Blair pulled last week in Simon's office? Revenge is good. Revenge is great. Get dressed.* 

Having broken a few Daytona speed records (and possibly a law or two), Jim made it to the anthropology building in ten minutes. 

"Blaaaaaaiiiiiir," he called, bursting into the grad student's office. 

Blair looked up from the papers he was reviewing. "Hey, Jim. What brings you here at this hour?" 

Jim stripped his clothes off and flexed his pecs. "You!" he replied. 

"Oh, no, Jim, not now. I have a meeting any minute now," Blair protested. 

"Mmm hmmm," Jim commented and pulled Blair to his feet. He unzipped Blair's fly and tugged the jeans down to Blair's ankles. 

Blair tried to push him away and retrieve his pants. "Jim, no! You don't understand, I-" 

"Here, Dr. Sandburg, let me assist you!" Jim pretended to pull Blair's jeans up but "accidentally" yanked down his undies. "Whoooooops! My bad!" 

Blair gaped. "Jim-" 

"Well, while I'm down here-" Jim paused in mid-leer, listening. "Here comes your appointment." 

Blair panicked. "Shit, Jim!" He pulled his undies and jeans up in one motion and looked around desperately as the knock resounded through the office. He gestured to his desk. "Under!" he ordered. "Now!" 

Jim shrugged and scrambled on all fours under Blair's desk. It was a tight fit and not all that comfortable. The floor was freezing cold against his naked ass, and his head collided with the underside of the desk if he tried to uncurl his big body. 

Blair hurriedly kicked Jim's clothes into a corner and sat behind the desk, praying to Whomever happened to be listening that Jim wasn't visible from the other side of the desk. "Come in," he called. 

A tall, severe-looking man walked in and sat down without being asked. "Mr. Sandburg, I'm Dr. Brownstone, the new head of the anthropology department." 

Blair extended his hand. "Blair Sandburg," he said, giving the old fart the full force of his glorious smile. 

Brownstone nodded and touched Blair's offered hand as though it were crawling with Ebola germs. "Yes, Mr. Sandburg. I've reviewed your records and they seem to be quite exemplary." 

"Thank you, I-" 

"Now," he interrupted as though Blair hadn't spoken,"I make it a point to meet with each and every staff member to make sure they know where I stand on policy." 

Jim sighed as the old boy launched into a sermon on staff conduct. If Jim hadn't managed to domesticate Blair in three years this newcomer didn't have a prayer. _Blah Blah Blah_ Jim thought,tiring quickly of the montone patter. Clearly a diversion was in order. Jim looked up for the first time and noticed that he had a glorious and inspiring view of Blair from the waist down. 

*That's the stuff sonnets are made of* he thought, mouth drying uncomfortably *Or at least dirty limericks. The terrain is treacherous, Captain Ellison. Proceed with extreme caution* 

Jim reached out and untied Blair's shoe. Getting only a twitch from his victim, Jim ripped the shoe and sock off. Blair kicked at him. 

*Okay Ellison, the first objective has been reached. Proceed to level two* 

Jim took the bare foot in his hands and started a deep-muscle massage. His thumbs kneaded the spot guaranteed to make Blair purr, but his Guide maintained a stubborn silence. 

*So, you wanna play rough huh? Try _this_ * 

Jim ran his fingers over the bottom of the foot, tickling mercilessly. Blair yelped and jerked his foot away. 

Brownstone stopped in mid-bore. "Mr. Sandburg?" he inquired, eyeing Blair over the top of his glasses. 

"Uh...cramp," Blair explained. "Just need to massage it out. Excuse me." His hand dove under the desk and gave Jim a sound thwack upside his head. "Much better. You were saying?" 

*Ouch! Oh, you're going to pay for that one!* 

With great relish, Jim leaned forward and bit Blair's helpless calf. Blair squeaked and jerked again. 

"Mr. Sandburg?" 

Blair gave his best 'who me?' look. "Spider bite" he explained. "Office is just crawling with 'em." He groped surreptitiously under the desk until he caught Jim's ear and twisted savagely. 

*Oh, now you've done it! You've pissed off The Almighty Sentinel God. Prepare to face the consequences, O Lowly Anthropology-Type Person!* 

Jim pushed Blair's knees apart. Blair slammed them closed. 

*Sir, the enemy is playing hard to get. Instructions? Do whatever it takes to reach your target, Ellison. Yes, sir!* 

Jim spread Blair's legs again, and this time wedged himself between them to keep them from crashing shut. He gazed upon the wonder that was his Guide's crotch. 

*Target sighted, but I think the enemy is aware of our presence. In fact, judging by the way our enemy is valiantly attempting to crush our head with his knees I'd say he's _definitely_ aware. Perhaps a bit of stealth is in order.* 

Jim planted a hand on each of Blair's muscular thighs and began the slow, sensual caress that never failed to drive Blair insane with lust. Blair didn't make a sound, but Jim felt his legs relax and his pulse accelerate. 

*Very effective tactic, Ellison. He's completely defenseless. Now for the main assault. Ramming speed!* 

Jim moved north and rubbed the growing bulge in Blair's jeans, squeezing and groping through the tight denim. 

"Ohhhhhh!" Blair moaned loudly. 

The department head glared at him with well-bred disdain. 

"Stomach pain," Blair said quickly, rubbing at his abdomen. While he was down there he flicked Jim viciously on the nose. 

"Mr. Sandburg, you seem to be experiencing a myriad of physical ailments today. Perhaps we can conclude this talk another time?" 

Blair was having difficulty catching his breath. "No no, please go on," he managed. 

_Whatever you say_ Jim shrugged, and obeyed. His mouth saw all the fun his hands were having between Blair's thighs and decided to join in. The combination of teeth, tongue and fingers was too much... 

"So, are we in agreement, Mr. Sandburg?" 

Blair threw his head back. "Ohhh yes! Yes!" 

Brownstone smiled for the first time in possibly decades. "Good! I think I'm going to like you, Sandburg...Blair. You're the only one who shows any enthusiasm for my ideas." He stood and offered his hand. 

Smiling a lazy, orgasm-stoned smile, Blair shook it. 

"Well, it was a real pleasure meeting you, Blair. But between us, please see to those medical problems of yours. You're way too young to have so many." 

Blair nodded. "Oh, I fully intend to do something about my...problem...Dr. Brownstone," Blair assured him. 

The old fart closed the door behind him. 

Blair stood up and leaned under the desk. "Jim?" he called menacingly. "Oh, Jiiiim." 

Jim scuttled out and stood, wincing at the pain in his cramped muscles. "Hi Chief!" 

Blair crossed his arms sternly. 

"Darling?" 

Glare. 

"My love?" 

Scowl. 

"My only?" 

"Do you know," Blair asked almost conversationally,"what I feel like doing to you?" 

Jim looked down at him innocently. "Feeding me breakfast in bed followed by a long massage?" he asked hopefully. 

"Ripping out your liver and feeding it to you raw!" Blair replied. 

"I'll run," Jim told him. 

"I see. And what makes you think I won't hunt you down?" 

"Because-" Jim pointed. 

Blair looked down and realized that the front of his jeans was soaking wet. 

"You seem to have a slight bodily fluid control problem, Chief," Jim smirked. "But don't worry. If June Allyson can beat it, so can you." 

Blair thought about this for a moment. "Then I guess I'll have to do the deed right here." He advanced on Jim until the big man was pressed against the wall. Blair sank to his knees and began the long, hard task of punishing James Ellison for his sins. 

*Mission accomplished, Captain Ellison* 

The End 

* * *

End Workin' On A Sunday. 

 


End file.
